


On Thin Ice

by OtakuOkami



Category: Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne | Phantom-Thief Jeanne
Genre: Canon, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Ice Skating, Manga Spoilers, just in time for valentine's day, post-manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuOkami/pseuds/OtakuOkami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon. Post-manga universe. Maron learns that familial relationships can be slippery (especially when long-absent parents are involved); Chiaki learns how to ice-skate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Thin Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Two things.
> 
> 1\. Happy Valentine's Day! This especially goes for my friends on ATFC! This is dedicated to you guys.
> 
> 2\. This is loosely based on an OTP prompt, which will be revealed in the end notes.

On Thin Ice

 

The all-too familiar screech of the alarm clock went off, forcing a drowsy teenage girl out of her cozy bed. “Fin?” Maron called mid-yawn.

Fin didn’t come. _She **can’t** come. _ Maron reminded herself. She pushed the emptiness nagging at her aside with another thought. _Besides, that awful sound isn’t my rosary’s alarm. My rosary isn’t exactly a rosary anymore._ Her hand flew to her chest. Maron sighed in relief: she had taken it off before going to bed.

She silenced her alarm clock with a gentle tap of her finger, and then grudgingly tore the covers off the bed. She stretched up towards the heavens, yawning once more. Maron planted her feet on the floor and strode to her wardrobe, which housed her many school uniforms.

Momokuri High School issued its students their winter uniforms just last month. Much to Chiaki’s dismay, they were a bit more modest in length than the uniforms used in cooler weather. Maron didn’t mind—more fabric meant more warmth. And now that the ground was covered in piles of snow, Maron _really_ didn’t mind.

She wriggled out of her pajamas and stepped into the navy knee-length dress and slid on a pair of socks. Her jacket hung on a rack near the apartment door, which made it easier to grab on the way out.

She walked to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Maron spat a sea of mint-flavored foam into the sink. Once she rinsed her mouth free of hidden spots of toothpaste, she looked up into her doppelganger’s dark brown eyes. Other than her mussed hair and absent jacket, Maron appeared to be prepared for class.

She opened the cabinet drawers. Once she found her hairbrush, Maron ran it through her hair. She pulled some of her it back, debating whether or not she should braid it or leave it down.

Before she could make her decision, Maron heard a series of loud knocks on her apartment door. Only one person got up this early to pound on her door… She swung the door open. “Miyako, we have twenty minutes before we even need to walk to school.”

Miyako blinked drowsily. “School’s canceled today—bad weather or something. Mom told me to tell you before you were ready.” Miyako grinned sheepishly. “I suppose I was a little late.”

“Oh, you think?” Maron shot back. 

“Well, excuse me for trying to make sure you don’t get caught in a blizzard!” Miyako gestured to the mailboxes across the hall. “Also, I’m supposed to tell you you’ve got—“ Maron flew past her friend before she could finish—“mail.” 

Maron opened her mailbox and flipped through all of the magazines and ads until she saw her mother’s neat script. The stationary her mother used featured a city skyline, complete with skyscrapers and yellow and red cars roaming the streets. _I almost feel guilty opening the envelope because it’s so cute._ Maron’s curiosity outweighed her sense of guilt. She ripped it open and read the contents in silence, then a second time aloud for Miyako to hear: 

“ _Dear Maron:_

_Your father and I will be in Nagoya for a week or so. I know this is sudden, but we’ve been asked to be part of the opening ceremony for an ice skating rink we designed. Our employer gave us passes to the rink, but we don’t really skate—or have much time for it. Maybe you and a friend want to ice skate and have dinner with us on a day off? Can’t wait to hear from you._

_-Mom._ ” 

“Lucky! You and Chiaki will have so much fun!”

“Don’t you want to come?” Maron asked, pouting a little bit.

Miyako shrugged. “It may say ‘a friend,’ but they added ‘have dinner with us.’ They already know me. Go ask him.” She nudged Maron with her elbow.

“Okay…” Maron withdrew her key from the mailbox, and flipped through the string of keys. “Let’s see… Apartment key, mailbox key… and… Chiaki’s key.”

Miyako raised an eyebrow. “Why do you have _his_ key?”

“No reason,” Maron said. “It’s a spare.” A blush crept over her face while she fumbled with the key and lock.

Miyako didn’t press any further—Chiaki and Maron were dating, after all. What they did together was none of her business. (Besides, her “inner detective” gathered enough evidence about what they did together: Maron’s hasty reaction—a denial of sorts—and still-darkening blush said it all.)

Maron unlocked the door and held it open for her companion. “You first—and don’t open your mouth to argue with me.” 

Miyako wrinkled her nose in disgust. Chiaki’s apartment was a mess: candy bar wrappers littered the floor; a discarded bag of chips had been left open; and something smelled rotten. She covered her nose. “Is his place always this disgusting?”

“No. He’s usually neater than this by a long way. He’s…” Maron trailed off, searching for the right words to explain Chiaki’s unusual behavior. She hadn’t exactly gotten around to explaining about Fin and Access yet. “A friend of his moved away a few months ago. I think he’s struggling to adjust.” 

“Ah.”

Maron ventured further, trying not to step on any potato chip crumbs or anything else bound to crunch loudly underfoot. “Chiaki? Chiaki, are you up?” She found her boyfriend sound asleep on the sofa, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. If her calling him didn’t wake him up, Maron knew what would: “Chiaki, I’m making gratin!”

Chiaki’s eyes shot open. “I’m getting up, I’m getting up…” He sat up and looked at Maron expectantly.

Miyako clapped her hands and whistled—sarcastic applause for Chiaki’s performance. “Impressive. You’ve trained him well, Maron.” 

“I try,” Maron said, giggling.

“Hey, it’s not my fault _my_ Maron makes the best gratin,” Chiaki retorted as he threw a clean shirt over his head. He eyed “his” Maron for a moment, inspecting her outfit. “You didn’t get the memo, did you? We don’t have school today.”

Maron crossed her arms defensively. “Nope, but here’s a ‘memo’ for you.” She handed him a purple pass. “We’re going ice skating and meeting my parents for dinner when the weather lets up.” 

Miyako nodded, observing the impressive spectacle of Maron taking control. She cleared her throat. _I’m not going to be third wheel to them today._ “Have a fun day, guys.”

“Will do!” Maron saluted Miyako. She whirled around, awaiting Chiaki’s response. “Well?” 

“I have a problem with this date. First off, Nagoya’s a good train ride away, and I don’t see how we’ll get there, even if the blizzard dies down. If school’s canceled, the trains are probably closed…” 

“Oh, please,” she said. “I know someone who can get us there.”

Chiaki’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re thinking of calling…”

Maron nodded, backing away to the phone hanging on his wall. She started to dial the number.

“You wouldn’t… You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” She hit the call button. “Oh, wait. I just did.”

Maron held the phone up to her ear and wrapped the cord around her pointer finger. “Hello, is this the Nagoya residence? Nagoya-sensei, it’s nice to hear from you! No, Chiaki’s fine. Say, would you be willing to send Kagura over to pick us up and drive us to the skating rink? Really? Oh, thank you. You’re so sweet! Uh-huh. Okay, we’ll be ready. Thanks. Bye.” She uncoiled the cord and hung the phone back up on its charger. “Sounds like Kagura’ll be on the way soon.” 

Chiaki glared at her, but his expression softened at the sight of her bright smile. “You drive me crazy.”

Maron winked. “I know.” She planted a kiss on Chiaki’s cheek and skipped away. “I’m going to get ready.” With that, she left Chiaki alone to prepare for the day. 

Chiaki stood frozen in place for a few seconds, too flustered by her act of affection to react. He rubbed his cheek with his hand, grinning stupidly. Chiaki eyed the purple clock hanging in his kitchen. It usually took Kagura twenty minutes or so to make the drive to Momokuri, but with the icy roads, it was probably wise to add another ten minutes or so. _Not including the extra five minutes of Kagura begging me to return home, of course._  

* * *

Maron changed out of her uniform to a slightly more casual outfit. She struggled with the clasp on her rosary necklace; Chiaki’s dexterity was more detail oriented than hers. _I guess I should probably ask for him for help._ The buzz of the doorbell interrupted her efforts.

She opened the door, only to find herself standing eye to eye with Chiaki’s older double: “Nagoya-sensei? Wasn’t Kagura supposed to pick us up?”

Kaiki dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. “No, no. I haven’t seen my son in quite some time, so I figured Kagura could take over for today. That, and Kagura takes far too long when it comes to picking Chiaki up or dropping him off. He’s surprisingly emotional when it comes to my son.”

“I-I see. Well, why don’t you come in? He should be here soon.” Maron gestured to one of her chairs. “He’s still getting ready.”  
  
Kaiki happily accepted her offer and made himself right at home. He caught a glimmer of light from Maron’s hand—a golden cross. “That’s a beautiful pendant. It looks awfully familiar…” 

“Oh?” Maron stiffened. _Does he know about Jeanne? And Sinbad?_ “Chiaki gave it to me as a birthday present. 

“Ah, that’s right—he worked back home to earn some extra cash for it.”

_He doesn’t know._ Relieved, Maron loosened up and seated herself across from Kaiki.

“I’m glad.” Kaiki’s cheerful demeanor grew slightly more serious. “I don’t think he’s ever given any girl a present before. When his mother died…  I thought his interest in caring for others died along with her.”

Maron’s expression darkened. _I suppose Chiaki had problems at home I didn’t even know about._ “I misjudged your son at first. Nagoya-sensei, I’m sorry if I ever came off as cold towards you or Chiaki.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear. My wife—Chiaki’s mother—was the same way towards me at first. I wish she were here to meet you. She’d like you very much.”

“I think that’s one of the few things I can agree with you on, Dad. Mom would adore Maron.”

Maron shot up out of her seat, surprised to hear Chiaki’s voice from behind her. “How… how did you get in here?!”

Chiaki casually spun a jingling number of keys around his finger. “I have your spare, remember?”

“Right… Oh! Chiaki, can you help me put this on?” She looped the chain around her neck. “I can’t quite get the hooks together.”He worked at the necklace’s clasp; once it clicked into place, Maron spun around on her heel and hugged him. “Thank you,” she said, burying her face into Chiaki’s chest. 

“Awwww, you two are _so_ cute. Chiaki, you’d better marry—“ Chiaki shot his father a murderous look. “—Escort Maron out to the car.”

Kaiki (wisely) fled Maron’s apartment at high speed.

“Sorry about him. I hope he didn’t embarrass you or anything.”

Maron shrugged. “He means well. And you _are_ going to marry me, right?” No response followed her question. Worried she went too far, Maron quickly clarified: “Chiaki, it was a joke…” 

“Actually, I would like to marry you… but not yet.” Chiaki’s face crimsoned. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t told Dad yet, but… I want to study medicine. I want to be a doctor.”

Maron felt as though her heart stopped for a moment—and perhaps it did. She searched for a response, and spoke up when she found the words. “You’ll be a good doctor.” She summoned the courage to add: “And a great husband…” Realizing what she’d just said, Maron amended: “to someone, I’m sure.” She looked down to the floor, turning even redder than Chiaki. _How does he say things like that so casually? It’s…  embarrassing._

“Maron, you’re too sweet.” He took Maron’s gloved hand into his own. “Well, are we going or what?” Chiaki scooped Maron up into his arms and carried her to the elevator.

“Chiaki, put me down!” Maron flung her arms about wildly, hitting Chiaki’s back. “This is embarrassing.”

He laughed. “Not until we’re in the car. And it’s only embarrassing because _you’re_ the one making a scene.” 

Maron grumbled—Chiaki wasn’t wrong in this case. 

* * *

Chiaki was a man of his word. Until he and Maron arrived at the ice skating rink, he made no physical contact with Maron, who was working on unknotting her skates’ laces. He silently observed her delicate hands at work. They moved gracefully and purposefully—the hands of a little thief.

“Whoever wore these last sure made these a challenge,” she said. Maron dusted off her hands, signaling that the skates’ laces were free of any tangles. She slid them on and proceeded to tie them. “Hey, where are your skates?”

Chiaki leaned against one of the lockers with his arms crossed. “Don’t need them. I’m just going to watch.” 

Maron pouted. “Come on, Chiaki. Mom and Dad sent me _two_ passes for a reason. You don’t want to get on their bad sides, do you?”

“Fine, fine.” Chiaki walked up to the counter and requested a pair of skates from the girl at the register. _If it makes Maron happy, then so be it._ Chiaki joined Maron after the red-faced employee handed him the rentals.

“Lucky! At least yours were returned properly.” A suspicious thought struck Maron: “Chiaki, what did you say to her?”

“It’s not what I said, but what I did.” Chiaki exemplified just what he did as he threw his scarf over his shoulders: a handsome smile that would melt the heart of just about any girl. Maron playfully smacked her boyfriend’s shoulder as they ventured out onto the ice, hand in hand.

Chiaki hesitantly released Maron’s hand from his own.

Maron cocked her head to the side. “Chiaki?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up to you in a second.”

“If you say so.” Maron sped past him.

Chiaki watched her in awe. Every move she made on the rink was graceful. Rarely did Maron stumble and not once did she fall. Her gymnastics training translated smoothly onto the rink. Upon completing the first circle around, Maron dug her skates deeper into the ice, leaving a little trail behind her. She caught sight of her boyfriend, who appeared to be frozen to the rail. “Chiaki, why are you still over there?”

“Oh, you know… taking my time.” He freed one hand as if to wave any concerns away.

Maron narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his swift dismissal. She glided back over to his side. “Chiaki, you’ve never gone ice skating before, have you?” 

Chiaki stiffened a little bit at her question. “Not exactly…” he stopped himself. _No more lies._ “No, I haven’t.” He hated the sound of defeat in his voice, but Maron’s kind smile lightened his mood. “You’re really good at skating. If you don’t end up being a professional gymnast, I’d say a pro figure skater would be a good back-up.”

“Don’t change the subject at hand, mister.” An idea planted itself in the back of Maron’s mind. “Ne, Chiaki, where’d you get your scarf?” She held a small section of the fabric and pulled it closer towards her. “It looks awfully expensive…”

“Maron, isn’t that a bit hypocritical? The pot calling the kettle—“Maron tugged the scarf off of Chiaki and fled to the opposite side of the rink—“black.”

“Come and get it!” she shouted.

Chiaki came up with three options: 

One. He could stay put until Maron’s parents picked them up for dinner. Option one was somewhat logical, but also the least likely course.

Two. He could follow the flow of the other skaters while clinging to the side rail. Option two was also logical, but Maron would probably expect that from him and continue skating circles around him. 

Three. He could cut across the rink at the risk of falling, injury, and/or complete humiliation. Option three was the least logical route, but Maron would not expect it.

_Screw logic._

Option three it was.

Chiaki let go of the rail. He saw Maron grow tense—either from fear her boyfriend would split his head open, or so she could prepare to flee the “crime scene.” He stepped forward, slid a little, and stopped. Following the other skaters’ path, Chiaki repeated this process a few times in order to gage Maron’s reaction.

_This isn’t so bad._ He picked up the pace. _This is easy!_ Chiaki’s confidence accelerated at the same rate as his speed. He noticed Maron hadn’t moved—she was waiting for him. He considered option two once again, but it was too easy. _I was never one for the direct route, anyways._

Maron saw Chiaki exit the flow of traffic. _If he doesn’t slow down, he’s going to hurt himself._ “Chiaki, stop!”

Chiaki stumbled when he heard Maron call out his name. He failed to regain his balance and fell flat on his back with a very solid _thud!_ He heard a pair of blades smoothly skim across the ice. 

Maron knelt beside him. “Chiaki, are you alright?” 

“Other than a bruised ego, I’m okay.” His voice sounded strained—caught somewhere between a whimper and whine. Draping his arm over across Maron’s shoulder for support, Chiaki sat upright. “But you know what would make me feel even better?”

Maron leaned in closer. “What?”

“This.” Chiaki’s free arm curled around her waist, pulling her into his lap for a safe landing. “Gotcha." 

“Chiaki, that’s not fair!” Maron spluttered.

“Maron, you’re the last person who should lecture me on fairness,” Chiaki said. “I’d like my scarf back, you little thief.” He dug into Maron’s coat pocket and pulled it out.

Any hint of humiliation on Maron’s end evaporated. “Little thief, huh?” She tapped her lip with her fingertips. “Does this mean I have to pay bail?”

“Well, I had considered letting you off with a warning, but you conveniently ended up face-to-face with me…” 

Maron cast Chiaki an incredulous look. “So… a kiss? That’s it?”

He nodded vigorously. “Is that a problem?”

“N-no.” Maron tried not to look at him, but her eyes kept returning to Chiaki. “Coming from you, that seems too…” 

“Clean? Pure? Innocent?” Maron cut Chiaki off from suggesting any other antonyms for the word “perverted” with a kiss. It was one of those kisses where time seemed to stop, as if the young couple were the only ones living in the world. In their world, nothing else mattered or could diverted their attention from one another.

A familiar voice boomed from the side of the rink. “I thought this was supposed to be a place for families to ice skate, Koron. I guess we were wrong.”

Correction: _Almost_ nothing could have diverted their attention from one another, save for Maron’s parents.

“Mom! Dad!” Maron broke off the kiss and free of Chiaki’s hold. She leapt into her parents’ arms. The only thing separating her parents was the gate dividing ice skaters from the spectators. “I’ve missed you.”

Chiaki watched his girlfriend and her parents from his position on the ground. It was best not to get too close—he didn’t want to ruin their reunion a second time. The first time had been bad enough as it was.

He heard the ever-so perceptive Koron ask her daughter whom she’d invited for dinner. “Nagoya Chiaki.” That was his cue. He walked as if he were heading right into one of Minazuki-kun’s traps: with the utmost caution and precision. One wrong step could result in disaster. Granted, he was wearing ice skates, so even the smallest risks he took could still become a huge blunder.

Maron pressed on: “You remember Chiaki, right?”

“I couldn’t forget him even if I tried,” Takumi said, wrapping an arm around Koron’s waist. “It’s hard to forget someone whose first words to me were ‘I’m gonna marry your daughter.’”

Both Maron and Chiaki winced at the memory: the first time Chiaki had met Maron’s parents had also been the first time Maron had seen her parents in seven years. Chiaki had figured Maron would want a little privacy once Miyako told Maron about her parents. So he stood approximately three feet back—more than enough for privacy, but close enough for him to monitor the Kusakabes.

Maron basked in the warmth and love she’d missed so for long in her parents’ gentle albeit shaky embrace—a feeling similar (but not quite the same) to the one she felt when Chiaki held her in his arms. Once she had let them go—her parents almost seemed hurt when she cut the hug short—Maron said, “There’s someone I want you to meet.” She’d breezed ahead of them.

“Mom, Dad, this is Nagoya Chiaki.” She’d leaned against Chiaki, who had looked as though he’d forgotten where he was. “I love him.” 

Chiaki had been struck dumb for a second at Maron saying those words. He recalled blurting out the words, “I’m gonna marry her!”

Takumi smirked as the boy before him fumbled over his words and reddened as the memory faded away. “Fi-first of all, I never said who I was gonna marry. My mind was somewhere else then.”

“Where was it, exactly?” Takumi countered.

Where exactly indeed. Could mere words even describe how much he loved his man’s daughter, and how much she loved him in return? How he and his love had spent that night together (together _together_ )? How, based on that one night alone (along with several other little occasions), he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving her?

Maron watched her boyfriend’s face grow redder and redder with each passing second, uncertain if he was turning red out of frustration or perverted thoughts.

Koron’s voice cut through the heavy cloud of awkwardness: “Takumi, why don’t you start up the car?” This was no question, but a command. Takumi (although reluctant) obeyed. 

Chiaki dipped his head—an unspoken “thank you”—before Koron.

Koron reciprocated Chiaki’s respectful nod. “My husband won’t say it, but thank you for being here for Maron when we can’t be. I feel better about things knowing she’s in your hands.” 

The muscles in Chiaki’s face tightened, forcing a cold smile. “I couldn’t live with myself if I left her. I don’t know how you two can handle it.”

Sensing the tension between Chiaki and Koron, Maron slipped her hand into Chiaki’s white-knuckled fist. “Chiaki, let’s take back the rentals, okay?” She glanced back towards her mother. “We’ll meet you in the car, Mom.” 

“Sounds perfect, Maron.” Koron then scurried off to follow her husband.

“Sounds great.” Chiaki’s icy glare fixed itself on Koron. “Just great.”

Once Koron was out of sight (and presumably out of earshot), Maron whirled around to face Chiaki. “What was all of that about?”

“I hate them.” Maron trembled at the anger in Chiaki’s voice. “I hate them for leaving you again after all this time.”

“I thought you were happy they went back to work overseas again.”

“I was at first,” he admitted. “But after everything you’ve gone through… they could try harder to act like parents.”

“You’re right, but at least they’re trying.” Maron pushed the exit gate open and held it for Chiaki. “But _you_ could certainly try a little harder, too.”

Chiaki took a deep breath and blew it out. “Fine.” 

* * *

The drive to the restaurant was an uncomfortable one. Chiaki, Koron, and Takumi’s strategy for “trying harder” was silence. The only sounds were an occasional honk from other vehicles and the howling wind outside.

Maron fiddled with her necklace chain. After what felt like hours but was in actuality several minutes, Maron spoke up. “So… um… where are we going to eat?”

Takumi peered up at Maron’s reflection in the car’s rear view mirror. “Our hotel has a French restaurant attached to it—it’s nearly as good as the food we had there.” 

“You went to France?” Maron couldn’t believe her ears. She scooted up as close as her seatbelt (and watchful boyfriend) would allow her. 

“France. Of course it’s France,” Chiaki muttered.

Maron elbowed him. “What places did you visit in France?”

“Let’s see…” Koron tapped the dashboard with her manicured nails. Her nails were painted a bright red and must have been recently done. They bore no sign of chipping or any other impurities. "The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame—for its beautiful architecture, obviously—oh, and we saw Rouen Castle. Did you know Jeanne d’Arc was imprisoned in a tower named after her? The tour de la Jeanne d’Arc.”

Maron couldn't help but cringe a little at her mother's French pronunciation. “Actually, it's not.” (Chiaki made a choking sound.) “I mean, that’s not the tower she was imprisoned in. She might have been tortured there, but she was imprisoned in the tour de la Pucelle.”

“That sounds nice, Maron.” Takumi squinted at the road ahead of him. “Oh, Koron, did you mention that one castle we saw?”

“Takumi, were you listening?”

“No, Koron, I wasn’t.” He wildly gestured at the ice-covered windshield. “I’m trying to drive in the middle of a snowstorm for your daughter!”

“My daughter? My daughter? Maron is our daughter, thank you very much. Now if you would just listen to yourself…”

In the midst of her parents’ argument, Maron clutched the rosary dangling from her neck and inspected it with a far-off look in her eyes. Chiaki raised his hand in an attempt to comfort Maron, but withdrew it to avoid getting it burnt.

“Mom. Dad.” Koron and Takumi ceased their fighting and looked at their daughter. “If you want to get a divorce again, that’s fine. Please don’t stay together for my sake.” Maron opened the car door. “We can walk home from here. It’s only a couple blocks. Come on, Chiaki.” She slipped out of the car and stood next to the flickering streetlamp.

Chiaki glanced over his shoulder. Koron held her hand over her mouth—probably to choke back any sobs. Takumi stared at his feet instead of the road in front of him. 

Chiaki shook his head sadly. “Your daughter deserves so much better. I don’t deserve her, but neither of you do, either.” With that, he trailed off after Maron into the cold air of the night. 

* * *

The air was so cold each and every breath Maron exhaled looked like a tendril of smoke. “They hate me, don’t they? How could have I been so stupid?”

“Oi, Maron, slow down.” The soles of her boots made a simple snowflake pattern. Even though she’d be easy to track, he needed to ensure Maron made it home in one piece. Then again it’d be a miracle if her parents would ever let him near Maron again (not that he would listen to them if that were the case). Still, he had to do something and bringing her home would be a start.

“Why should I? I’m cold and tired. My parents will probably never talk to me again after tonight.” 

Once he returned to his favorite spot (by Maron’s side), Chiaki untied his scarf and threw it over Maron’s shoulders. “Okay, you’re warmer now. Two problems corrected.” He gestured to the building before them. “And, we’re back at the apartment.”

Maron’s frown twitched at the corners. 

“Ah, I see a smile.”

Maron buried her face behind the scarf, hiding what was more likely than not, a smile. “Chiakiiiiiiii…” 

Chiaki poked her pink cheek. It was cool and slightly damp. “You’ve been crying.”

“Thank you for your service, Captain Obvious.” Maron playfully shoved him, and he returned the action. This back-and-forth shoving went on for a couple minutes. Finally, Maron spoke. “Chiaki, do you think they’ll get a divorce again?” 

Chiaki looked up towards the heavens. The sky was unusually clear—he could make out a couple constellations. He frowned a little as he tried to remember the last time he saw more than one or two constellations in the sky. “I mean… my dad’s been married and re-married several times. Their fights sometimes sounded ugly, but… I think we should give your parents a little leeway.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They have a lot going on. They both have jobs overseas. They recently got re-married, which I’m sure is not an easy process. And they’re trying to get to know the daughter they abandoned for six— “

“Seven.”

“Seven years,” he amended. “And they’re probably lost and confused. That’s a long time to be under Satan’s control. Do you remember why they broke up, save for the the whole control thing?”

Maron shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“See, even you don’t remember why. Chances are if you don’t, they definitely don’t. And as you already know, people who love one another fight all the time.” 

Maron arched a sly brow. “So like you and your father?”

Chiaki coughed out an uncomfortable laugh. “I was gonna say us, actually.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” She rested her head on Chiaki’s shoulder and sighed. “I guess we should head back home.”

“Or we could spend a few minutes out here yet,” Chiaki suggested. “It’s not all that often we get to see a night sky like this.”

“Mm.” Maron snuggled even closer to Chiaki, reveling in his warmth and love. Her gaze turned upwards the moment a swift flash of light flew by. She gasped and pointed a finger towards the sky. “Did you see that?” 

“It was hard not to see that shooting star. Did you say your wish three times?”

“No, I don’t have any wishes. I’m… happy.” The way Maron said the word “happy” was strange. She said it rather slowly and carefully, as if she was unused to saying it—almost as if it was a completely foreign word. 

Chiaki tilted his head to the side, allowing Maron a little more room. “Really? No wishes? None at all?”

“I think that even if my parents split up again, I would be alright. I have Miyako, Minazuki-kun, and you.” A gentle smile surface on her lips. “And what about you?”

“I didn’t say it three times, but it looks like my wish came true. I— “

“Where the hell have you two been?” Miyako stormed out of the building door and over to her friends. “Maron, your parents have been pestering me because they can’t get into your apartment, and I don’t have the spare key. Not only that, but you walked out of their vehicle in this weather? You two are unbelievable.” 

Chiaki opened his mouth to explain, but Miyako cut him off. She prodded his chest with a finger. “Don’t say a word. I don’t want to hear it. We’re going to go inside. Now.” Miyako’s tone allowed no room for further comments or questions. She pushed herself in front of them and led the way up to the seventh floor. 

Maron and Chiaki glanced at one another for a moment before they fell in line behind Miyako.

Chiaki couldn’t help but notice a savory scent grow stronger as they ascended each floor. Once they arrived at the seventh floor, he knew immediately what it was and where it was coming from. “Maron, I think your parents are at your place.”

“Are you sure?” Maron asked.

“I’m not serious about many things, but gratin is one of those things.” 

Maron rolled her eyes, then looked to Miyako. “Miyako, didn’t you say they needed help getting in?” 

Miyako’s eyes gleamed devilishly. She plucked a slim hairpin out from behind her ear and presented it before Maron. “Never underestimate your best friend, Jeanne.” Miyako stuck the pin in the door’s lock and fiddled with it until the lock clicked. “Voila! It’s open.” 

Maron laughed. “Too bad I’m retired, otherwise I might’ve used that trick at some point. Well done.” She took a deep breath. “I guess… I guess I’d better head on in.”

“Not without me, you’re not,” Chiaki said. “Your parents promised us dinner.”

“You’re only here because it’s probably gratin.”

“Hey, I’m serious about gratin, but even more serious about you.”

Miyako made a gagging sound. “If you lovebirds aren’t going to get yourselves a room, I’m heading back to mine.” With that, Miyako made her way back to her apartment. 

Chiaki rested his hand on the doorknob. “Shall we?”

Maron nodded. “Let’s go.”

* * *

It was a rare occasion when her daughter wasn’t home and that Koron and Takumi were, so it seemed like a good time to snoop through Maron’s belongings. Koron couldn’t help but admire her daughter’s decorations, although some were a little odd, like the empty chessboard on Maron’s bedside table and the teacup in the bathroom.

Koron entered the main living area and slumped into the plush sofa. “Takumi?”

Takumi peeled off the oven mitts he’d been wearing as he put the gratin down on the marble table. “What is it, Koron?”

“The boy is right, you know,” Koron said. “We don’t deserve Maron.”

Takumi flinched, locking up every fiber of his being tight.

“Think about it,” she continued. “She still wants to talk to us after we left her alone for so long. She rarely calls because she knows we’re busy. And then… we fight right in front of her.”

Takumi’s neutral expression transformed into a remorseful grimace. “Yeah.” He swallowed. “We really screwed up.”

Koron managed a weak nod. “We did.”

The door creaked open. “Mom? Dad?” Maron entered the apartment first. Chiaki waited a few moments before following her.  

Koron bolted up out of her seat. “Oh, Maron! Thank God…” She gave her daughter a quick hug and (much to his surprise) Chiaki a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I really shouldn’t have done that. I’m so, so sorry." 

“Shhhh. It’s OK, Maron. It’s OK,” Koron wiped away the tears starting to stream down Maron’s face. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Mom, where’s Dad?”

Koron gestured to the kitchen with a tilt of her head. “He just finished baking some gratin.” Maron thanked her mother and wandered off towards the kitchen.

Koron peered at Chiaki out of the corner of her eye. “A little angel told me gratin is someone’s favorite.”

Chiaki wasn’t sure if he should find Koron’s remark funny or concerning, let alone literal or metaphorical. He heard Takumi and Maron’s chatter grow louder as they returned to the living room. He could tell their conversation was going well, judging by Maron’s laughter and beautiful smile he would never tire of seeing.

“Thank you for bringing her back,” Koron said.

“No need to thank me, Koron-san,” he said, unable to tear his gaze away from Maron. He loved everything about her. She was strong, beautiful, and finally, happy. His brown eyes flickered with warmth as he watched her.

The way Chiaki looked at Maron melted Koron’s heart. It was no wonder Maron lit up whenever she talked to Koron about her boyfriend. Yes, Nagoya Chiaki was handsome, but he also cared about her daughter. It was clear to Koron then: “You really love her, don’t you, Chiaki?”

Eyes still fixated on Maron, Chiaki replied. “More than I ever thought possible.” 

Koron's heart fluttered at the boy's sincerity. Her daughter was undoubtedly in good hands. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

Chiaki scoffed at the question. “It’s gratin—of course I’m eating here."

* * *

Dinner went exceedingly well. Chiaki went so far as to declare that Takumi's gratin was the best he'd had-- which in part, was a lie. Maron's was undoubtedly the better of the two.

“Alright you two, we’re heading back to the hotel,” Takumi announced. “You sure you don’t need anything, Maron?”

Maron hugged her parents tightly. “No, I’m sure. Thanks for everything. I love you.”

Koron ran a hand through her daughter’s hair. “We love you, too, Maron,” Koron said. “Keep us updated on everything, okay? Be good while we’re gone.” 

“Of course, Mom. Love you.”

With that, her parents left her once again, leaving her and Chiaki to their own devices.

It was then the emotional and physical weight of their day set in for Maron. She opened her mouth in a gaping yawn. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize how tired I was.” 

Feigning a yawn, Chiaki stretched his arms out and wrapped one over Maron’s shoulder. “Yawns are contagious, you know.”

Maron felt too tired to object or think up of a good response, so instead, she changed the topic. “Chiaki, will you stay tonight? I'd rather not be alone tonight."

“Y-yes!” Chiaki’s face broke out into a slight blush. “Of course!” 

“Thanks,” Maron said as she opened the door to her bedroom. 

“Okay, I’m gonna get ready for bed. See you in ten.” He planted a kiss on Maron’s cheek and took his favorite route to his place—through her bedroom and jumping from her balcony over to his.

“Be careful!” Maron called after him. 

She quietly slipped into the bathroom connected to her room and changed into her pajamas: a plaid button-up shirt with matching pants.

Once she re-entered her room, she found Chiaki laying on his side on top of her bed. He pulled the covers up and gestured for Maron to join him. Maron barely hesitated to settle down next to him. She snuggled deeper into the blankets and closer to Chiaki.

Before drifting off entirely, a realization struck Maron. “Chiaki, what was it you were going to wish for?” 

Exhaustion from the day's activities had roughened his voice, but he spoke softly, evening out his tone. “I told you, I already have it.” Chiaki curled his arms around Maron's frame, holding her as a young child might their beloved teddy bear. “I got to spend an entire day with you." 

“Well, looks like you got to spend the night with me, too,” Maron mused through a tired smile.

Chiaki returned her smile. He could barely focus his eyes, but he refused to fall victim to slumber until Maron was fast asleep and safe beside him.

And luckily for Chiaki, that didn’t take long.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> OTP Prompts (otpprompts.tumblr.com): "Imagine Person B of your OTP teaching Person A how to ice skate/roller blade."


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